


You're mine

by Sansastarklives



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:30:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sansastarklives/pseuds/Sansastarklives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petyr is testing Alayne's knowledge and rewards her for her clever answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're mine

"Let's see what you've learnt then, sweetling." Petyr motioned for Sansa to sit beside him. "Alayne, imagine that you were going to get rid of an opponent in the game. How would you do it?" His grey green eyes stared deeply into hers.  
"Poison," Alayne replied after a moments thought.  
"Ah, a woman's weapon. Now how would you poison the target?"  
"Well there are a number of ways-"  
"Name three."  
"Well if you were eating or drinking with the person, you could quietly slip the poison into their drink." She looked up at him, only to see disappointment in his eyes.  
"What if someone saw you pouring it in? Or found it in the leftover wine?"  
" Or You could pour it onto his food before the plate got to him. You wouldn't need to be in the room." Once again Petyr shook his head.  
"What if his plate was given to someone else?" Sansa thought for a moment and then smiled.  
"You could plant the idea in someone else's mind." Petyr nodded, but Sansa wanted a better reaction. "Or there's another way, if you didn't have the patience. If you had access to their room, then you could dip their toothbrush in poison, but it would have to be a slow poison. If you used the night's leaf, then the poison would take around thirty minutes. That means that the person would probably be breaking their fast when the poison took its affect. The person would die what looked a natural death. The food and drink would be checked, but who would think to test their toothbrush?" Petyr's eyes widened in surprise, and a smile slowly crept across his lips. His eyes showed nothing but pure pride.  
"Wow. You've learnt a lot at your time at the Eryie, haven't you? You're so clever, sweeling. So clever." He drank her in and whispered "You're beautiful, Sansa." He pulled her onto his lap. She was wearing a powder blue dress, that made her eyes shine brighter than the fire's flames. He smiled at her, even his grey green eyes smiled, but then he remembered himself and the mask returned. Sansa could smell the mint on his breathe and smiled.  
"Thank you, Petyr." She could only call him Petyr when they were alone. She liked that. It was almost as if it were there little secret. The secret that made life at the Eyrie bearable. She glided across the room towards the goblets of wine, and handed one to him. The wine tasted sweet and spread a strange warmth through her body, she drank it greedily until none remained in the cup, and he did the same. She silently poured them both another cup full of the fruity wine, but instead sipped at this one. They drank in silence, until Sansa's cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink and Petyr's eyes began to soften.  
Sansa knew what would happen next. They played the same dance every night and tonight was to be no different. Petyr lazily walked over to Sansa and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her close to him and lent down to meet her lips.  
Their lips melted together as they kissed. His tongue parted her lips hungrily and moved around her mouth until she mirrored his movements. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, pressing her to him, as though she was never close enough. Her hands roamed until they found his hair and she tugged on it gently. His other hand rested upon her breast, squeezing it until Sansa purred.  
He pushed her backwards until she was on the desk, legs wrapped around him. She used them to pull him in closer: she was ready tonight. They had been together for months, but Sansa had never been ready for him to take her maidenhood. However tonight she wanted nothing more, because when she was with Petyr, she felt safe. She pulled away from Petyr's lips and leaned beside his face "I'm ready." She whispered, knowing she needn't say more. Petyr's eyes drank her in, as his hands moved to the laces on her dress. He tugged at them with practiced hands, pulling away her powder blue dress. He then preceded to remove her small clothes, leaving her naked on the desk. His hands moved to her round breasts and he lowered his lips to them. Sansa moaned quietly as he sucked on their undersides. He bit at her nipple, pulling it until she gasped. With his hand he pinched at her other nipple. Once her breasts started to turn a bright pink, tattooed with bite marks he stopped. His hands massaged them, while his eyes stared in awe.  
Sansa lifted his tunic and threw it aside. She went to untie his breeches, when she felt his hand move between her legs. He rubbed her folds, taking triumph in the moans rippling through her throat. His fingers played at her entrance. She pushed her hips forward, until his well practiced fingers entered her. They moved with speed, running against just the right spots, making her cheeks blush. When she came, Petyr's hand moved away from her thighs. He sucked on his gleaming fingers, much to Sansa's shock. A grin crept across his lips, and he removed his breeches. Sansa traced the scar on his front: 'a present from your uncle' Petyr had once told her. Sansa's hand followed the scar until she reached his length. She wrapped her hand around it. She bit her lip and looked at Petyr, unsure. He held her wrist and guided her movements: ever the teacher. He looked upwards and closed his eyes. His hand fell away from her wrist and Sansa's hand quickened.  
Petyr positioned himself between her legs, and slowly entered her. "This will hurt." He whispered. Petyr's brows merged at Sansa's sharp intake of breath, but continued as she began to meet his hips. Sansa bit her lip, moaning due to the pain. It felt as though her insides were being ripped apart. But there was also se kind of pleasure, hidden among the pain.  
Seeing the pain in her eyes, Petyr moved his shoulder towards her face. "Bite it," he urged, his voice husky. "It'll help, sweetling." Sansa shook her head, but Petyr's next thrust was more forceful, and sent a shock of pain raging through her body. She bit down on his shoulder. A metallic liquid filled her mouth. Her head snapped back, her eyes locking on the blood straining his skin, however Petyr didn't seem fazed by it.  
"You're mine," he whispered, his minty breath warm on her neck. With another thrust Petyr shook and collapsed on top of Sansa. She gently stroked his hair, and he traced patterns onto her stomach. They stayed like that for what felt an eternity, but neither minded. They both wished that they could have lived in that moment for ever, but Petyr stood up and moved away.  
Once he and Sansa were both fully dressed, he leaned in and kissed her softly on her lips. "Goodnight, sweetling."  
Sansa glided to the door, brushing down her clothes as she did so to ensure that there was no clues to what had just happened. Her hand moved to the door, but she stopped just before opening it. "My Lord, what you said maybe true. I am yours, however there is something that you must know." Petyr's eyebrows lifted, surprised at Sansa's words. "You are mine just as much as I am yours." And with that she left, Petyr stared at her in surprise, smiling. Next time he would show her how much he was his, she would regret those words. The smile on his face as he fell asleep was a rare one: it was real.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, any feedback?


End file.
